


Reunion

by midwich



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Self-Doubt, basically a conversation and some kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 14:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18942775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midwich/pseuds/midwich
Summary: McCree returns after a two-week mission in Ilios with some thoughts about this Thing between him and Hanzo.





	Reunion

Although the two-week mission in Ilios had been an undeniable success, the shootout and frantic getaway at the very end had completely drained everyone - and left them all caked in several layers of sweat and dirt, besides. As such, the cabin was almost completely silent as Tracer finally eased the Orca down onto the runway at Watchpoint. The moment the wheels hit the ground, McCree woke abruptly and easily from his light nap - a surviving skill from his Blackwatch days. 

As he yawned and rolled out the slight stiffness in his neck, he peered about the dimly lit cabin, where his teammates were still scattered about in various states of exhaustion. 

Genji was lying flat on the floor of the ship, partially hidden underneath the conference table, hands clasped neatly over his stomach. His lights were flickering intermittently, and his machinery hummed in that quiet, even way that said he was either meditating or sleeping - it was always hard to tell. 

Hana, on the other hand, was clearly dead to the world, her head drooping over a blinking handheld and only propped upright by the seatbelt mashed into her cheek. Lucio was sprawled in the seat next to her, headphones askew and head lolling back, mouth slack and drooling. They were both frowning in their sleep and looked incredibly uncomfortable. McCree resisted the urge to snap a photo of the two, knowing that the guaranteed retaliation would not nearly be worth it. 

Angela, who sat straight across from him, was the only other person who was fully awake in the cabin, but she was currently squinting down at some dense and difficult-looking text on her tablet, her eyes visibly bruised even under the streaks of dirt, so McCree didn’t bother saying anything to break the silence as the ship rolled into the hanger. He yawned again and absently glanced out the window by his seat.

Immediately, he straightened up, a broad smile splitting his face- because he could see Hanzo down on the ground, standing by the wall and watching as the Orca came in. He wore casual clothing and his face was faintly red as though he’d just come from a work-out. He was staring up at the ship with his head cocked, slightly birdlike. When their eyes met through the aircraft window, McCree waved wildly, mouthing a greeting. Hanzo gave a small nod in return, and if McCree’s eyes weren’t mistaken - they never were at this distance - Hanzo’s mouth had curled up into a warm smile. Lord have mercy.

McCree glanced at the aircraft door, which remained stubbornly shut, even though they’d come to a complete halt by now. He tapped his foot. Glanced back to the window. Found that Hanzo was still looking up at him, still smiling faintly, arms loosely crossed over his chest, a serene figure in the otherwise empty hanger. Waiting to welcome McCree back.

Alright, and probably the others as well, McCree admitted to himself. It would be pretty presumptuous to assume that Hanzo was here for him and him alone, and that he didn’t care a lick about the others. Nonetheless, it somehow felt like this was for him. Felt special. 

Extended missions weren't all that unusual, but this particular one was unique in that it was his first extended mission since he'd started this... thing with Hanzo. This nebulous, unidentified thing. This thing they'd slipped into as easily as breathing, with mutual wordless agreement one evening when they were drinking on the roof as usual. This thing they had yet to properly, formally discuss, despite it having been a thing for two months and three weeks running. (Yes, he'd been keeping count.)

The two weeks McCree had been away had been busy, sure, but not nearly busy enough that he hadn't thought about Hanzo in the quiet moments in between. Not nearly busy enough to stop McCree from picking up his tablet and consider calling Hanzo, just to hear his voice, to see his face. 

But in the end, be it professionalism or just plain cowardice, McCree hadn't done so even once. If asked, he wouldn't be able to pin down an exact reason why. Perhaps he'd convinced himself that Hanzo would surely be busy, or at least have better things to do than indulge him. Perhaps he'd suspected Hanzo would be a distraction he couldn't afford himself while on the mission, not even during breaks. 

Whatever his justifications had been at the time, they all fell away now, trivial, meaningless. Seeing Hanzo's face for the first time in two weeks, McCree realized the real reason behind his reticence. Doubt. It had been so long since he'd had something like this that he genuinely couldn't believe it was true, couldn't even trust what he'd been feeling. He'd needed to see if what he felt was actually real, and not just a product of the other man's proximity and willingness. If he was just lonely in general... or if he wanted Hanzo, and Hanzo alone. 

Jesse McCree, you goddamn fool, McCree thought. As if two weeks of pining weren't enough to prove that you're already head over heels. 

McCree didn’t know how long he stood there, how long he and Hanzo stared steadily at each other through the aircraft window, but he gradually became aware that he could hear his heart pounding in his ears, feel blood rushing up his neck and pooling down in his stomach at the same time. 

Hanzo cocked his head again, almost knowingly this time, and his smile widened. McCree found himself smiling back helplessly. His head spun a little and his mouth felt dry. He debated the merits of breaking the window and leaping out. 

“What are you looking at?” Genji’s sudden appearance at his shoulder made McCree’s hand twitch towards his gun - although he still didn’t break eye contact with Hanzo. “Oh, it’s my brother. Of course.” Genji sighed, somehow managing to convey both affection and disgust in a single exhale. “I was wondering why you had that dumb expression on your face.” He prodded McCree in the cheek and McCree swatted his hand away without looking.

“How many times’ve I told you to stop sneaking up behind me like that?"

“I wasn’t sneaking, you were just-” and here Genji’s voice turned sickeningly sweet “-completely lost in the depths of my brother’s captivating eyes.”

“Yeah, I was,” McCree agreed instantly, smirking as he heard Genji choke. In his periphery he saw Genji draw himself up, most likely preparing some sort of verbal counterattack.

At that moment, however, there was a loud hissing sound as the cabin depressurized and the aircraft doors finally opened. McCree unceremoniously stepped around Genji and made for the exit, barely registering as Genji jeered something in Japanese at his back. 

He descended the ramp in several long strides, making a beeline for Hanzo. “Howdy,” McCree called out, rather unnecessarily.

“Hello.” Hanzo looked critically over McCree as he approached, before his expression settled into something approving. “You look surprisingly well-rested.”

“Caught a few winks on the way back.” McCree couldn't help sweeping his gaze over Hanzo as well, a tad too eager to be considered strictly polite. “You’re a real sight for sore eyes.”

Hanzo lifted his chin, pleased. “I would say the same to you.” 

“Nah, you’re too kind.” To demonstrate, McCree brushed a hand over his armor and immediately regretted the small cloud of dust he released into both of their faces. “Maybe after you hose me down a couple times,” he coughed, waving a hand through the air, “but as it stands, I’m absolutely filthy."

“I don’t mind if you’re filthy,” Hanzo said, completely straight-faced, startling a laugh out of McCree.

“Don't I know it.” The two of them fell back to watching each other for a moment, the silence taut and heavy but not uncomfortable. “Hanzo,” McCree said at last, “can I…?”

Hanzo answered for him by taking the last step right up into his space, until they were literally pressed chest to chest. He cupped the back of McCree neck with a warm hand, leaned up on his toes, and pressed a quick, dry kiss to McCree's mouth. “Of course you can,” Hanzo said as he drew back. 

There was a funny little crease in his brow - it was a tic often directed at McCree, ever since their very first meeting, and one that McCree had eventually come to learn was a sign of exasperated fondness rather than real irritation. “Welcome back, Jesse,” Hanzo said. A pause, and then he continued, “Truthfully, I was expecting a far bolder greeting from you after two weeks… but I suppose I misjudged how much you’d miss me while away. After all, you didn't think to call me even once.” The last bit was said with a studied regret, and just the barest hint of slyness. 

Distantly, McCree could hear the blood rushing in his ears again, feel his face grow hot. He didn’t know what kind of expression he was making but it clearly amused Hanzo, because his eyes had gone all bright with mischief. Hanzo opened his mouth, no doubt to make another smart remark, but before he could say another word, McCree closed the distance between them and kissed him once more. 

It took very little effort to coax Hanzo’s lips apart, to deepen the kiss, turn it open-mouthed and heated. He tangled one hand in Hanzo’s hair and brought the other to his jaw, tilting and angling his head for better access. 

“You sly dog,” McCree said, when they finally broke apart for breath. “You didn’t misjudge nothing, did you? You knew exactly how much I missed you.” 

“Is that so?” Hanzo arched a brow. “I can't recall. Perhaps you should refresh my memory again.” They kissed a third time, McCree dropping one hand down Hanzo’s lower back and slipping it under the hem of his shirt, feeling Hanzo’s spine arching beneath his palm as he rubbed circles into the hot skin. Hanzo briefly pulled back for a split second, just long enough to sigh, "I missed you too," softly into McCree's mouth, before latching back onto him.

He might as well have struck McCree with a bolt of lightning. 

This time, they only separated eventually at the sound of Genji loudly gagging behind them. 

McCree turned and shot Genji a glare with no real heat, one of his hands still linked with Hanzo's. "Quiet in the peanut gallery."

"You two are the worst," Genji said. "I regret ever encouraging this to happen."

“Welcome back to you too, Genji,” Hanzo said, with a sigh of a different kind.

“The absolute worst,” Genji repeated, shaking his head. He gestured theatrically at Hana and Lucio, who stood beside him at the bottom of the Orca's ramp, and who were both squinting pitifully against the bright fluorescent light of the hanger. “If you won't have mercy on me, at least think of the children!”

"Not a child,” Hana muttered, rubbing the red seat belt mark on her cheek. “Anyway, I think it’s cute." Her jaw nearly unhinged with a yawn. "You guys feel free to cameo on my weekend stream any time - my viewers totally eat up all that stuff.”

McCree and Hanzo glanced at each other, bemused and vaguely concerned about what sort of content this weekend stream featured. 

“Sorry, what kind of "stuff" do they eat up?” McCree ventured at last.

Hana squinted at him, like he was being deliberately obtuse. “People in love, duh.”

“Huh,” McCree said blankly. He was almost too nervous to turn and see Hanzo's reaction. But once he did, he found Hanzo merely looking back at him, steady as always. McCree licked his lips. "Us in love, huh? S'that so?"

Hanzo gave a slow blink. "Just so," he said. Like it was that simple. Like it was that easy for him to bare his heart. 

McCree would have written him off as entirely unflappable if it weren't for the way Hanzo's hand trembled ever so slightly in his own. 

That, more than anything, was what heartened him. Neither of them knew exactly what they were doing, but both of them wanted it enough to try - that was clearly enough for Hanzo.

And it's more than enough for me, McCree thought. He squeezed Hanzo's hand and watched his expression grow radiant in response. McCree beamed right back. “Well, how about that?”

“Angela, I’m gonna need another memory wipe,” Genji moaned, as they met for a fourth kiss, and did not separate for a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> first fic, unbetaed  
> critique always welcome


End file.
